


redder than the devil

by mercutionotromeo



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (during aforementioned thigh fucking), Aftercare, Alternate Universe, Ass to Mouth, BDSM, Bottom Harry, Canon Compliant, Come as Lube, Comeplay, Coming In Pants, Crying, Daddy Kink, Daddy Louis, Desperate Harry, Desperation, Desperation Play, Dom Louis, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Dom/sub Undertones, Domestic, Drabble, Dry Humping, Established Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Frottage, Harry in Panties, Impact Play, Lace Panties, Light Dom/sub, Louis Tomlinson Calls Harry Styles Pet Names, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oh also, One Shot, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Overstimulation, PWP, Paddling, Panties, Pet Names, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Punishment, Rimming, Smut, Spanking, Sub Harry, Subspace, Sweet/Hot, Thumb-sucking, Top Louis, and, because i wasn't really specific lmao, because that also happens, coming without permission, harry just really likes the sound of sex, is there a tag for louis eating harry out through his panties, it's just spanking and harry being a good boy for his daddy! what more could you need, louis calls harry every single pet name, poor Harry I make him cry all the time, sort of??, there's an implied audiophile bit, thigh fucking, this is technically both
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-15 22:54:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12330483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercutionotromeo/pseuds/mercutionotromeo
Summary: It's half past 9, and all Harry wants is for Louis to touch him. Preferably after a good spanking.If you combine a lazy Saturday afternoon with a distracting, pouty Harry, you'll end up with Louis spanking his baby over his knee in the middle of a paused FIFA match.





	redder than the devil

**Author's Note:**

> hi, sweet friends! it's me, back with yet another Daddy Louis fic! if anyone saw the pics of Louis with the paddle from the Observer Mag outtakes the other day, you'll understand why I felt inspired to finish this, haha. this was so fun to write - ended up a lot longer than I expected, but I can't be trusted to write short fics when there's spanking involved. as I mentioned on my last work, I may or may not be signed up to the 50 reasons fic fest *cough cough* if all goes as planned, that work should be 25-30K (featuring autumnal scenes and witch!Harry) and should be posted by Nov. 10th at the latest (50reasons on tumblr for more info) I digress - I hope you enjoy this! lots and lots more writing coming your way! to those of you who have left me requests, rest assured that everything you've asked for is in the works! :-) if you want me to write a specific kink, prompt, etc., please feel free to leave it below! I love you all for reading and commenting/kudos-ing on my work, it means the world to me! :-)
> 
> note: I obviously have zero knowledge of FIFA, so please bear with me and employ the necessary suspension of disbelief, haha

Honestly, Harry's not _trying_ to act out. He certainly enjoys a good FIFA match as much as the next person, but it admittedly gets a little monotonous for _anyone_ by hour 5. Still, he's spending the day with Louis, so he loves anything they do together - and that includes faking interest in Louis’ FIFA team selection.

They've been camped out in bed for the entire afternoon, surrounded by bags of crisps and empty takeaway containers. It’s a miracle they’d even gotten dressed in the first place, considering they've barely moved since they woke up. Don't get him wrong - this had been lovely at first. Focusing on a video game and his boyfriend was exactly what Harry had needed after a long week. Now, though... Harry frankly has _other_ things on his mind.

He's tried the subtle approach, wordlessly asking for a kiss after Louis won the fourteenth match in a row. Tragically, the peck he’d gotten hadn’t turned into something deeper. Hell, he'd even tried asking outright to suck Louis off - something Louis rarely says no to - but all he'd given him was a grin and a murmured "Later".

Now it's half past 9, and all Harry wants is for Louis to touch him. Preferably after a good spanking.

"Lou," he murmurs, his controller forgotten in his lap as Louis checks the stats on his new player.

"Yeah, baby?" Louis responds, not taking his eyes off the screen.

Harry sighs dramatically, staring wistfully out the window at the darkened streets below their flat. It’s just not fair - Louis isn’t even _trying_ , and he’s still got Harry desperate to be ruined. Jesus, he’s wearing ratty jogger shorts and an old stained t-shirt, but he still looks so _Daddy_ that Harry doesn't even think twice about bringing out the big guns.

"Daddy," He sulks, jutting out his bottom lip in a pout. The corner of Louis' mouth quirks into the shadow of a smirk, but he continues scrolling through his team lineup. “ _Daddy_ ,” Harry tries again, whinier and more insistent this time.

Louis just shakes his head, narrowing his eyes in concentration. “Be good and I’ll let you suck me off later.”

Harry huffs in annoyance and crosses his arms, but Louis turns to regard him with a stern glance, so Harry moves his gaze sheepishly to the floor. A few minutes pass in a mix of mild irritation and _severe_ horniness, and Harry decides to just lay all his cards on the table. He presses a quick kiss to Louis’ shoulder and murmurs, “Be back in a sec,” before racing upstairs to their spare bedroom.

It takes only a moment because he knows exactly what he’s looking for. Over the years, Harry’s amassed a fairly large collection of panties. It started out as a whispered confession, when Harry was 17 and mumbled to Louis that the lace makes him feel pretty. Now, it’s blossomed into an entire dresser drawer full of panties. Some of them he has just because they’re comfortable, but most of them are here because they make him feel sexy and pretty like nothing else can. He loves wearing them, and Louis loves seeing him in them, so it’s the best kind of win-win situation.

Heart skipping a beat, Harry slides open the top dresser drawer and fishes through the piles of silk and lace. There’s a few pairs he lovingly refers to as “spank-me panties” because they’re cut in _just_ the right way - they make his ass look amazing, and Louis usually can’t resist ruining him when Harry’s got them on.

He selects the light pink lacy pair, then shimmies out of his jeans and pulls the panties on, admiring the way his half-chub stretches the front of them. He contemplates going back downstairs in just these, but it’s even more delicious when Louis doesn’t know what Harry’s hiding underneath his clothes, so he tugs his jeans back on.

When he gets back to their bedroom, Louis is predictably in the same position - only this time, he’s frustratedly yelling at one of his players to kick the ball further. Harry leans against the wall, watching Louis curse out the pixelated referee. “You fucking _idiot_ ! _Kick_ it, Jesus Christ --” He groans as the TV flashes a “you lose” screen, then falls defeatedly back into the pillows and flings an arm over his eyes.

Harry grins mischievously to himself and takes the opportunity to close the distance between them. He straddles Louis, grinding down not-so-subtly into his lap. Louis cracks a grin, dropping one hand to Harry’s hip and squeezing his ass a little.

“Figured you still wanted to play,” He murmurs, rubbing his eye with his other hand. Harry doesn’t say anything, just guides Louis’ fingers to his waistband. Louis sits up straighter, a smirk playing at his lips because he _knows_ what Harry’s trying to do. “Oi - thought I told you to be good, didn’t I?”

Harry swallows thickly, but continues trying to hook Louis’ fingertips in the waistband of his jeans. Louis slyly raises his eyebrows at him as if to say, “ _Okay, fine. Two can play at that game_.” He lets Harry continue to play with his left hand, but he takes his controller in his right and starts a new game one-handed, peering past Harry’s shoulder at the screen.

Harry sighs internally. So this isn’t going to work as well as he thought it would. He bites his lip and grinds down against Louis’ thigh again, and there’s absolutely no way Louis can ignore how much Harry clearly wants him.

“You’re hard,” Louis observes calmly, eyes still glued to the screen. A frustrated whimper falls from Harry’s lips, and he drops his head to Louis’ shoulder, pouting as he curls up in his lap. “What - you want me to take care of it for you?” Louis asks teasingly while he controls the goalkeeper with one hand.

“Yeah, Daddy,” Harry mumbles, nuzzling into the crook of Louis’ neck.

“Later,” Louis responds casually, jerking a little with the vibration of the controller. Harry sighs again because later just isn’t _good_ enough.

“ _Daddy_ ,” He whines plaintively, unashamed of how desperate he is for Louis’ attention. He slowly slides Louis’ fingertips into his waistband, finally low enough that he can feel the lace this time. Louis’ expression changes from mild irritation with the game to smirking recognition at the familiar slip of lace against his fingertips. At long last, he pauses the game and drops his controller to the ground.

He quirks an eyebrow at Harry. "You're acting like you wanna get spanked or something."

Harry sheepishly turns his eyes to the floor, and Louis squeezes his ass again - properly, with both hands this time. Harry can feel Louis’ eyes on him, roving over his body; his gaze lingers at his crotch, then he leans forward and pulls at the waistband of Harry’s jeans until he can see a sliver of pink fabric. Louis exhales slowly, then murmurs a low, "Go get the paddle."

Harry practically leaps out of his lap and bounds up the stairs to their kink closet; he’s back in an instant with their favorite paddle - brown leather with a heart-shaped cutout. It’s worn from years of use, but they both love it.

Louis takes it from his hands, then tugs Harry swiftly down over his lap. Harry doesn’t even have time to adjust to the change in position before Louis is yanking his jeans down to expose his lace-covered ass. He sucks in a sharp breath, fingering the delicate fabric lightly.

“So pretty,” He murmurs. “Gonna look so lovely with your red bum. They’ll match perfectly.” Harry bites at his bottom lip to keep from moaning outright, cock impossibly hard against Louis’ thigh. Louis sighs contently, running his finger along the waistband of the panties. He feels lightly over Harry’s ass and thighs with his fingertips, running his hands gently all over his lower body.

Harry feels like one giant nerve ending, heart beating out of his chest. “Gonna --?” He grunts, praying Louis will get the hint and _do_ something already.

“Ooh. You’re mouthy tonight,” Louis murmurs, then swats his ass lightly with the flat of his palm.

Harry whines brokenly, lurching forward against Louis’ lap. “Use me," He pants. " _Please_ \- wanna be used.”

Louis tuts his tongue and trails a teasing finger down Harry’s spine; his voice is pitying. “Mm, I know, angel. Poor baby wants me to use him, doesn’t he? But I’m busy. I have things to _do_. Bratty boy doesn’t understand that. Always thinking about his cock.”

Louis inhales calmly and continues. “Y’know, I thought maybe I’d just spank you quick, then get back to my game. But then I thought, ‘Wouldn’t it be more fun to properly _ruin_ my baby? Make him come so hard it almost hurts?’ And I think _that’s_ an even better idea. Don’t you?”

Harry swallows thickly, nodding. Louis hums happily, then swishes the paddle through the air experimentally before resting the cool leather against the swell of Harry's bum. “Count for me, love.”

He massages Harry’s ass cheek for a moment, preparing him for the impact, then the paddle comes down hard without warning on the lower half of his right cheek. Harry makes a choked moan, cock twitching between his legs and blurting out another bead of pre-come.

“ _Count_ ,” Louis reminds him sternly, tugging lightly at the hair at the nape of Harry’s neck.

“One,” Harry whimpers, his voice already growing thick with tears. The paddle comes down again on the lower part of his left cheek, and Harry gasps out a “Two”. By the time they’re up to the tenth one a minute later, Harry’s _really_ struggling not to come. He’s aching with it, desperate and too close for his own good. Every spank sends his orgasm bubbling up inside him, and it’s getting harder and harder to tamp it down.

They always do sets of fifteen - there’s only five more left - but he’s barely holding on. After number eleven, tears are threatening to pour down his flushed cheeks.

“Daddy,” He gets out, sniffling plaintively.

“I’m here, baby. ‘M here,” Louis murmurs, voice hushed and soothing.

“Gonna - _ungh_ \- m’gonna come,” Harry whimpers, and Louis shakes his head sternly.

“No. You know you’re not meant to until Daddy says.”

He’s right, of course - Harry knows it was fruitless to even warn him because there’s nothing he can do about it; he just has to hang on til fifteen.

The paddle comes down again, right in the middle of his left cheek and he can’t help it anymore - he starts to full-on cry from the desperation, heat pooling in his belly and _so_ close to overflowing. “Twelve,” He squeaks through his sobs.

Louis’ voice is in his ear, concerned and gentle. “Good?” He asks, a quick check-in to make sure he’s not pushing Harry too far.

Harry nods as the tears run down his cheeks; number thirteen hits on the right half of his bum this time, and Harry’s toes curl into the rug. “Th-thirteen.”

His orgasm is gonna completely overpower him if he doesn’t do _something_ about it, so he sloppily shoves his thumb into his mouth as he cries silently. He sucks noisily around the digit, praying it’ll help calm him down.

Number fourteen stings the lower half of his right cheek, raising a heart-shaped welt that’ll bruise tomorrow, and Harry cries out around his thumb.

“ _Daddy_ \--” He starts, but Louis shakes his head, a nonverbal reminder that they’re not through yet. “Fourteen,” He mumbles around his thumb, dropping his gaze to the floor.

Pre-come is smeared all over the front of his panties, making the pink lace a wet and sticky mess. His cock’s so hard that the head is poking out of the waistband, and the skin-on-skin contact of it against Louis’ thigh is almost too much to bear. Harry squeezes his thighs together to try to keep from outright humping Louis’ leg, but - fuck, he can’t help it - his body just takes over. The desperate need to come has him suddenly rocking his hips gently down against Louis’ lap, the tiny bit of friction on Harry’s cock just enough to make his head spin.

Louis notices right as the paddle’s about to deliver the last blow, and he stops his arm in midair to stare down at Harry desperately rubbing himself off against his thigh. Of course, Harry can _feel_ Louis watching him, but it’s so bloody good that he can’t care - just sucks his thumb harder and blinks away the tears as he ruts against him.

“No, baby,” Louis warns, voice low and serious, but Harry can’t stop rocking his hips down. It’s like his body’s on autopilot, chasing after his orgasm without him. His hips rock faster in tiny, desperate motions. He cries harder because it almost _hurts_ as he gets closer - it hurts that he’s still holding off.

A bit of saliva drips from his bottom lip, and he whines pitifully around his thumb as his body starts to shudder.

The heat in his belly bubbles up and finally overflows, rushing in shaky waves through his body. He pumps his hips up into the feeling, working himself through his orgasm. Takes absolute ages for him to stop coming, and he cries and whimpers all the way through it. He’s poured messy and hot into his panties and up his tummy, probably getting Louis’ shorts all sticky, too. When he’s done, he doesn’t have the heart to look at Louis - he just pushes his bum up to guiltily receive number fifteen.

Louis delivers it wordlessly, in the center of his left cheek, and Harry mumbles out a “fifteen”, still crying and breathing hard. He hears Louis set the paddle down, then feels his fingers reaching between their bodies to touch Harry’s cock lightly. He’s somehow still slightly hard, probably thanks to the last spank, and Louis’ fingers on him only get him harder.

“You wanted to be naughty, hm?” Louis asks calmly, and Harry nods meekly, still sucking his thumb.

“And what do we do when you come without permission?”

"You punish me.” The words are garbled around his thumb.

Louis nods, rubbing Harry’s back gently. “That’s right. You know Daddy has to punish you.”

Harry sniffs and nods timidly; Louis shushes him gently. “Shh, shh. ‘M not mad at you, baby. Never. You did so well, so good for me. But I can’t tolerate coming without permission, can I?” Harry shakes his head. “Good boy. Let me help you stand up, yeah?”

Louis gently eases Harry’s panties back up, the pink standing out against the stinging-red welts covering his bum. He helps Harry stand in between his legs. “There. That’s it, baby. Can you bend over the mattress for me, love?” Harry nods and follows his instructions, fingers bump his nose lightly as he sucks his thumb.

“Perfect.” With that, Louis moves to stand behind him, then kneels on the rug between Harry’s legs. He’s got one knee wedged between Harry’s pigeon-toed feet, and he starts petting up Harry’s legs gently with soft fingertips. Harry wills his breathing to steady, but it doesn’t work. All he can do is focus on keeping himself from coming too quick.

“You’re all messy. All wet for me,” Louis purrs, pleased, as he feels lightly over the wet front of Harry’s panties. Harry’s getting harder again by the second, cock already straining against the ruined pink lace of his panties. Suddenly, Louis bites lightly at Harry’s stinging ass cheek, teeth a sharp point through the lace. Harry yelps out, pain turning to pleasure and going straight to his cock.

Then, Louis’ breath is hot over Harry’s hole, right _there_ \- right where Harry wants him most. He exhales evenly, raising goosebumps all over Harry’s arms.

“Good boy,” He whispers, as he starts spreading Harry open with one hand, then dips in to flick his tongue experimentally over Harry’s rim. Even through the barrier of the lace, it’s so  _much_ \- hot and wet and fucking obscene. Harry keens around his thumb, hips trembling a little.

Louis hums thoughtfully, like he’s deciding how he wants to do this - deciding what he wants to do to Harry. He spreads him this way and that, first with one hand, then with both hands. Finally, he yanks the panties so that they’re riding up and - unfortunately - creating light friction against Harry’s cock.

Harry’s jaw drops and he groans out an “ _oh,_ fuck”.

Louis hums disapprovingly. “Dirty mouth.” He shifts to nudge dryly at Harry’s hole with his knuckle, preening at Harry’s resulting broken moan. “Feels nice, does it?”

Harry just sighs around his thumb and concentrates harder on not coming. Louis takes the opportunity to tug Harry’s panties to the side, exposing his hole completely. The cold air makes him fucking _ache_ with desperation.

Broken whines threaten to fall from his lips, but he holds them in as much as he physically can; he knows he'll get even closer from hearing his own moans.

Louis presses a small kiss into his lower back. “Don’t act like I can’t hear those whimpers. You’re so gone for me, for my mouth - I know you are,” He murmurs, his breath licking hotly up the bottom of Harry’s spine.

Harry moans softly, letting the needy whines slip out. In response, Louis pulls his panties aside even more, then fully digs in. He flicks his tongue over Harry’s rim and pokes shallowly inside, getting him sloppy-wet. Harry whines louder this time, at how Louis is deep but not deep _enough_. Louis slides the panties back into place, then licks a stripe over his lace-covered hole, smirking because he knows Harry’s already dangling helplessly on the edge.

Harry pushes his hips back, silently begging for more, but Louis’ tongue isn’t there anymore. Louis grins mischievously. “Look at you, trying to fuck yourself on my tongue. You love this, don’t you?” His voice is teasing, pushing Harry closer and closer to a second orgasm.

Harry just shakes his ass a little, silently praying for Louis to continue. "Greedy boy," Louis murmurs, then spanks him lightly on his upper thigh, and Harry can’t help it - he keens and rocks back even further. That kind of desperation seems to be what Louis was waiting for because he leans in to trace his tongue around Harry’s rim, as Harry desperately clenches against his light licks.

Louis hums contently, sending vibrations bouncing through Harry’s body. Harry’s cock drools another bead of pre-come, pressed tight and wet, against the ruined lace of his panties. He moans fully this time, unable to hold it in. “More - Daddy, _please_ \- need more.”

He hears Louis stand behind him, then feels his hands in his hair as he tugs his head up to look at him. “You’re begging, baby. You need me that bad?” Louis is smirking, voice teasing again. Harry just nods wildly as he sucks messily at his thumb. “Mm. You beg so prettily for Daddy. Could never say no to you.” Louis gets back to his knees, kissing down Harry’s spine as he goes.

Without warning, he leans in and presses his tongue fully inside Harry, licking him out fast and messy now. Harry gasps, shaking with exertion, thighs quivering as he struggles to keep from coming again. Louis licks curiously inside him, tongue applying pressure in all the right places. He flicks his tongue lightly over Harry’s prostate - just the tiniest bit of direct stimulation - and Harry whimpers brokenly.

It’s barely been two minutes since Louis started rimming him - there’s no reason for him to be this close already - but he just can’t control himself around Louis.

“Daddy,” He grits out. “Wanna come.”

Louis pulls back and hums disapprovingly. “Naughty. You know good boys are patient.”

Harry swallows thickly, panickedly wondering just how long it’ll be before Louis lets him come again. It feels like Louis has been edging him for hours, but he _knows_ he can’t come without permission for a second time.

Less than a minute of rimming later, though, and Harry’s ruined beyond words. He’s crying again, choked sobs muffled by his thumb, and the begging is fucking nonsensical. "Daddy - please, pl-please," He cries, hiccuping a little in the middle of his words.

Louis takes pity on him and pulls away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “S’okay, baby. You’re okay, I’m here.” His hands are gentle as he helps Harry turn over onto his back, then he crawls up next to him and brushes the tears away with his thumb. "Tell me what you want, angel." His voice is soft and comforting.

Harry sniffs, biting his thumb a little as he sucks it. "Wanna come, Daddy."

Louis presses a chaste kiss to his temple. “I know, love. Gonna let you soon, okay? Just hold on a little longer for me. Can you do that for Daddy?” Harry makes a soft sound in his throat and nods, though he’s not even sure if he _can_ , but he’s sure as hell gonna try for Louis.

Louis pets his hair lovingly, holding off from touching too much so as not to overwhelm Harry. “So good for me, love,” He murmurs. “So good, absolutely perfect.” He rubs his cheek with his thumb. “Okay now?”

Harry nods; he’s caught his breath, and he has a marginally better handle on keeping his building orgasm in check. Louis sits up, and Harry can see how hard he is in his shorts - it’s probably been hell for him to hold off so long, too.

“M’gonna fuck your thighs, sweetheart. That okay?”

Harry's cock twitches against his hip at the thought. “Yeah, Daddy,” He breathes.

Louis helps him turn onto his hands and knees, soothing him as his thumb falls out of his mouth with a wet pop. He trails his fingers through the half-dried come on Harry’s belly and moves it to his inner thighs, slicking them up. Harry feels boneless and lax; he lets Louis take his ankles in one hand and arrange his legs in the perfect position.

There’s a soft sound behind him as Louis shucks his briefs and shorts, then he drops a quick kiss to Harry’s lower back before he starts to thrust slowly between his thighs.

The noise is ridiculously wet and obscene. It’s like the cherry on top of a desperation sundae, since Louis is apparently intent on edging Harry in every way possible tonight. He knows this drives Harry crazy - fucking his thighs, being so close to his rim, but never actually touching it. What’s more, he knows Harry could come from the slick sounds alone.

“That’s it, baby, that’s it,” Louis murmurs, hips rocking forward in a slow rhythm. “Always so good for Daddy, yeah?”

Harry whimpers and whines out a “yeah, Daddy”. Jesus, feeling Louis so hard and wet between his thighs is...overwhelming, to say the least. Harry’s sliding headfirst into subspace before he even realizes it’s happening. He makes a soft sound in the back of his throat - it’s all he can do to warn Louis - but Louis, as always, still understands.

He drapes himself over Harry’s back so his lips are closer to his ear, mattress squeaking as he thrusts between his thighs even faster. Harry’s come squelches around Louis’ cock, slick and hot and noisy in the best way.

Harry whimpers again at the sound, at the way it makes his cock twitch against his hip, and Louis hums happily in his ear. “Gonna come for me like this, angel? Gonna come, just ‘cause it sounds so dirty? Hm?” Harry nods breathlessly, arms shaking so much that he can barely hold himself upright.

“Good boy. That’s my good boy. Come for me, baby,” Louis purrs, and Harry absolutely falls apart.

He gasps and sighs in relief as he comes, desperation turning to red-hot pleasure that bleeds all the way down to his fingertips. He pours hot onto his belly again, dripping onto the sheets.

Through the haze, he registers Louis’ thrusts turning shallow and uneven, and he hears Louis moan softly as he comes, too, painting the backs of Harry’s thighs in white ribbons. They collapse together into a sweaty, sticky heap, breathing hard.

Harry’s fully mired in subspace by this point; his thumb's found its way back into his mouth and he's sucking it steadily. His body feels pliant and light, like he could blow away at the slightest gust of wind. Come is practically _everywhere_ \- his belly, the sheets, his thighs - but he’s too blissed-out to care.

He makes a soft noise when Louis reaches over and touches his cheek, because all he needs to know is that Louis is there.

“I’m here,” Louis whispers. “I’m here, baby.”

They lie together for a long time, Harry drifting in and out of sleep with Louis’ fingers lightly stroking his hair, until Harry finally starts to feel less feather-light and more like Harry again.

He curls deeper into Louis’ embrace, thumb falling out of his mouth.

“Gonna take care of you, love,” Louis murmurs. “You were amazing. Did so well, ‘m so proud of you. Love you so much.” Harry hums in acknowledgement, breathing in Louis’ familiar smell as he lies pressed against his heartbeat.

Harry doesn’t know how much later it is, but Louis eventually gets up and comes back with a warm flannel; he lovingly wipes the dried come from Harry’s tummy and thighs. If Harry wasn’t so utterly mellowed out, his heart would probably melt at how gentle and sweet Louis always is with him.

The panties come off next, sticky and ruined; Louis chucks them in the direction of the hamper. He helps Harry climb into his lap, careful not to press too much on the angry red welts and heart-shaped bruises decorating Harry’s bum.

Harry rests his head contently on Louis’ chest as he rubs Harry's favorite vanilla-coconut body cream onto the stinging, pink skin. He massages it into his inner thighs, too, easing the irritation there.

His touch is soothing and relaxing; any pressure that Harry’s had pent-up over the last few days melts easily away into bliss under Louis’ fingertips. It's not just the gentle touches, though - Louis doesn’t stop whispering praise to him for even a second; Harry’s positively _luxuriating_ in an endless pool of sweet nothings.

“My beautiful boy - so proud of you, I love you, baby.”

Wearing pants will only make the welts more painful, so Louis helps him tug an over-sized t-shirt over his head. Even after Louis' gotten him all cleaned up, Harry’s still floating somewhere between heaven and earth. Louis just rocks him in his lap for a while, petting his sweaty, matted curls and murmuring sweet words in his ear.

At some point, Harry finally gets back to his body, settles back into his own head.

“Daddy?” He mumbles, yawning and stretching.

Louis smiles warmly down at him. “Right here, angel. You back yet?”

Harry nods sleepily and nuzzles against Louis’ shoulder. “Cuddle, Lou?” He asks, reveling in the warmth and safety of Louis’ arms.

“Yeah, ‘course, love. Anything you want.” With that, Louis helps him get under the covers and settles down next to him. A second later, they’re all cuddled up in the sheets, and Louis’ got his body pressed close to Harry’s, his arms looped loosely around his waist. “Good, baby?”

Harry nods, yawning again.

Louis laughs softly, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “Sleepy, hm?”

“Yeah. Tired.” His brain's starting to get fuzzy, pulling him under.

“Sleep, honey. ‘M here,” Louis reminds him, cuddling him even closer.

“Sorry I interrupted your FIFA,” Harry mumbles sleepily, already half-dreaming.

Louis grins into his t-shirt. “Fuck FIFA. This was a million times better.”

Harry yawns again and tucks his head under Louis' chin. “G’night, Lou.”

“Night, baby. Sweet dreams."

**Author's Note:**

> hey, thanks for reading this far! hope you liked it! if you did, please leave me a comment and let me know which parts you enjoyed reading the most so that I can better serve the interests of my readers with my future works! :-) stay tuned for lots more stuff in the pipeline! I'm currently writing 2-3 longer fics, along with many PWP's - the next one will probably be an anniversary fic drabble featuring Harry wearing handcuffs and a collar, for anyone who's interested in that. lots of love to you all! be nice, be good! :-)
> 
> title: often / the weeknd


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